


Color of my sky (You’ve set my world on fire)

by idyllicwebz



Category: Queen (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Brian is the voice of reason, M/M, Slow Burn, Tags may be added, art student! freddie, deaky and jim have the sweetest friendship, everything is harder than it needs to be, fred’s sorta given up, jim has a diary basically, jim likes learning the meaning of flowers, jim’s a hopeless romantic, librarian! jim, rog and fred are chaotic as usual, that’s what she said, they see colors once they meet their soulmates, this is also a pen pal au if you will, title gotten from golden hour by kacey musgraves
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-11
Updated: 2019-05-12
Packaged: 2020-02-26 17:27:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,285
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18721639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/idyllicwebz/pseuds/idyllicwebz
Summary: Freddie Mercury has long given up on the idea of soulmates, or at least he had until he anonymously started swapping letters with someone at his campus library.orFreddie and Jim are both lonely, and somehow in this huge universe unconventionally fall in love over notes.





	1. yellow

**Author's Note:**

> i’ve had this stuck in my head for forever and now i’ve finally put it to use and out there!! i’m extremely excited for this fic and hope you guys are too and are willing to stick around and give it a chance <3

 

The first time Freddie learns of colors he is five years old.

 

Except, he’s not Freddie—not just yet; he’s Farrokh Bulsara, and he’s just an Indian little parsi boy who longs for the colors he’s heard of all his life. The ones with all those names in the books he sneaks under his covers at night when he’s sure everyone’s asleep. It’s a beginners book for a person who’s just been thrown into the world of colors, and even though Freddie can’t particularly understand what they’re saying, he still likes to read and study the pictures as much as he can.

 

And he learns things this way too.

 

Like how:

 

  * _The ocean is mostly blue, although in some places it can be a murky mist of multiple green shades._ (whatever that means)



 

  * _Roses are red. Red like the way love feels inside your chest, when you get that tingly feeling pumping through your blood._



 

  * _Grass, the very one we walk on everyday, is green and bursting with life._



 

Still. He wonders more.

 

The closest Freddie could get to trying to understand the phenomenon was by his mother. His mother with glowing eyes and that bright loving particular that seemed to be only saved for him, had the joy of having a soulmate with his father. Something about that aspect always tugged strangely at him. 

 

Jer, who leaked of happiness and warm hugs, was nothing like her husband on the other hand; Bomi, always stern and the stricter of the two, who would be quicker to anger than Jer normally. But somehow it worked, and Freddie had more hope all the more for it.

 

Except that he’s seven now, and he’s getting almost as tall as mama (or so she claims), and all he can think about is if he’ll ever get close enough to experiencing those magnetic colors. The whole  _ true love _ part is still lost of him, and as of right now it’s not a priority, and well— sort of icky.

 

Freddie sighed, tired eyes blinking gently up at his mother who continued in tucking him in, a yawn blooming at his lips. “Tell me again mama, please.”

 

“I’ve told you many times now Farrokh,” she teased. “I know but, once more? Tell me about the colors. What do they look like?” He begged just like always and she gave in after a moment as usual; her grin softening.   
  
“It’s not so much as to how they look, but how they feel. I feel the colors through everything.”   
  
His eyes gleamed at her words, lips quirking in a questioning way. “What do you feel when you look at me mama? What color am I?”   
  
“Yellow,” she answered immediately. “Like the warmth from the sun on a beautiful day. Yellow feels like happiness, and that’s what you feel like my boy.”

 

Freddie’s cheeks had flushed and a giggle escaped out of his lips, an unselfconscious smile blooming sillily. “What about Kashy? What’s she like?”

 

“She’s still very young, but she feels like pink to me. Very beautiful and sensitive.”

 

Freddie made a little pout at that before letting his eyes slowly flutter. “I hope I can see those colors one day too,” he muttered, and Jer’s smile saddened at her sons words, before leaning down and kissing his forehead.

 

“Me too bubba.”

 

Freddie had come to terms with many things in life since then.

 

Like how he hated the way peanut butter had tasted when it got left out too long.

 

How he disliked the way his teeth stuck out too much when he smiled widely.

 

Even how he absolutely could  _ not stand _ his physics class.

 

Or, more disappointingly, how he’d come to realize that soulmates were just something for the lucky ones.

 

Yeah,  _ that was the more saddening than the three. _ But never mind that, because as Freddie had  _ also _ come to terms with was that it didn’t matter. No, no, what  _ did _ matter was how he was pretty sure he was gonna fail this next test. Wait—scratch that, he was  _ absolutely  _ sure he was gonna fail. There was not even a damn near possibility of passing this stupid bloody test.

 

“I am going to murder whoever invented learning about physics.” Freddie huffed as he slammed the textbook closed, groaning with an eye roll as his friends voice came gazing through.

 

“Oh it’s not that bad Fred. Physics is great! It’s the very thing that binds us together,” Brian chirped.

 

“It’s bloody mathematics.”

 

“Freddie’s right,” Roger jumped in too now. His expression was bored yet tired, and looked as though he rather be anywhere else but here. “If I wanted to learn about the rate of velocity and gravity or something, I would have just gone outside and threw something.”

 

“And how would you test that rate? There’s more to it than that.”

 

“I simply would have timed it Brian. Duh.”

 

“You are impossible,” Brian huffed and Roger winked at Freddie, as if he was proud of that fact. And, normally he would have laughed or chimed in on that retort, but all he could manage was a strangled scream as he covered his face dramatically. 

 

“I am absolutely going to fail this horrid test and you guys aren’t doing anything to help me! And where is Deaky? At least he’d be able to help me.”

 

Brian made a somewhat hurt face at that. Roger, on the other hand, took no offense, as he knew he was no help with anything school related. “He’s at the library on campus. Yeah he told me he couldn’t be around Brian when he studied cause it drove him mad.”

 

“So I’m the bad guy here huh?”

 

Rog rolled his eyes. “God you are so dramatic just shut it.”

 

Freddie didn’t have time to stick for the more bickering to come with those two. He needed help and he needed it  _ now. _ He was  _ not _ about to go home during break failing classes. His father would kill him if Jer couldn’t stop him.  _ Bless mama’s soul _ , Freddie thought tiredly. 

 

“—Then that’s where I’m going. You guys are impossible to study with, and I need someone patient-“ he glared at Bri, “to help me with this. If I fail this test I swear I’m bloody dropping out.”

 

So he packed his belongings (which were so much heavier than he’d liked) and left before Brian could so much as blink. 

 

There was no time for wasting.

 

Freddie had held in a groan when he finally saw the building in sight. It wasn’t that he had hated the place—at least not entirely, it was just that the place seemed absolutely insanely too quiet for his loud mind. Maybe that was why he’d thought studying with Roger and Brian was a good idea in the first place? He liked when he could argue for an answer, and win after awhile of them giving up. Or, how one of them would hum a tune before suddenly they all became enraptured with the little song for a moment or two. It was his absolute favorite thing.

 

But Fred supposed he’d have to give that up for a bit if it meant being able to come back home alive. He did  _ not _ wanna face the wrath of his father. Freddie would so much as rather jump off a bloody bridge than do that.

 

Suddenly the weight of his bag seemed all that much heavier.

 

At least John was there. That was something Freddie knew he could count on. He was always the more rational and seldom, and not quite as dramatic as the others; but a great friend all in all. Definitely more patient than Brian would have been if he’d stuck around.

 

The weight of the door was more than Freddie had anticipated, and he grunted the tiniest bit when he opened it, before shrieking slightly as another man came running out hastily. They yelled an apology of accented gibberish, not even bothering to turn around and continued their trek on. Freddie frowned.

 

_ How rude _ .

 

The nerve of some people Freddie had sworn was just amazing. 

 

Choosing to ignore the onslaught of particular colorful words he’d wanted to curse outwards, he’d forced himself onwards in, and found his friend quite quickly actually. Standing up and talking to a man at the main desk quietly with a kind smile. The conversation must have been interesting because John’s hands seemed to be continuing on moving, dramatically throwing them in every which way as he tried to hide his laughter.

 

Freddie guesses he must have sensed someone’s eyes on him because he turned in his direction and waved, albeit slightly confused.

 

“Hey! What are you doing here?,” he greeted once Freddie was close enough, but quickly spoke again as to get his true point across. “Not that I  _ don’t _ want you here, it’s just that I didn’t expect it.”

 

Fred shrugged with a little grin, wrinkling his nose. “Roger and Bri were peeving me off. Giving me a bloody migraine.”

 

“Wouldn’t doubt that,” John had said in response. “That’s why I decided not to study with them and save myself the time and hassle.”

 

“I probably should have done that. I told those dimwits I was going to the only person I could stand,” Freddie winked as he pinched his friends arm. “The only person I could trust at the moment.”

 

“Why me? Oh—is it because Brian’s a pain in the arse if you don’t understand something right away?”  _ Finally!  _ Someone had understood his point. “Yes!” he abruptly exclaimed before getting shushed by a man at the desk; which had made Deaky laugh. Freddie merely winced in embarrassment.

 

“Anyways darling I’m in terrible need of your help,” he begged. “If I go home failing my father will have my head on a delicate little silver platter.” He exclaimed and Deaky merely rolled his eyes. “There’s no need to whine it’ll be fine. Of course I’ll help you. You have everything you need?”

 

“Actually I think I’m missing one my books,” he admitted. “I was just gonna share with you.”

 

“Well I’m sure they have one here for you to borrow,” Deaky inquires. “I mean, it’s huge I bet you they have a million somewhere hiding. Hey George—“ he called out suddenly,  just as the man had walked by the counter, stopping at the sound of his name. His hair long and messy but freeing in a sense. He looks as if though he’d just woken up, or simply rolled out of bed, but his eyes were kind and a easy smile splayed onto his lips. 

 

“Oh hey Johnny boy, what’s up?” George asked, setting some books upon a cart quietly.

 

Deaky leaned against the counter now, his brows raised in question. “Where’s Jim? Freddie needs a textbook and he always pretty much knows where they all are.”

 

“Just left mate.”

 

“Really? I was  _ just _ talking to him.”

 

“Yeah, yeah,” George rambled. “He was late for something and he had to haul ass out. I think it was for some plant class—or I don’t know! It could have been something else I wasn’t paying attention.”

 

“Plant class?” Freddie mumbled to John as he rose a salacious little eyebrow, a teasing glimmer in his eyes. “..is that some sort of code for lighting up the greens darling?”

 

“No!” He exclaimed earning a shush that had made Freddie giggle.

 

George only snorted in response to that. “Jim smoking that  _ devils lettuce? _ Yeah right! I’d pay a thousand dollars to see how that bugger would act. Bloody irish leprechaun he is.”

 

John rolled his eyes with a sigh. “Well then, I guess you’re sharing with me then Fred.”

 

“You act like it’s such a horrid thing.”

 

“Maybe I wouldn’t mind so much if you didn’t always hog it.”

 

“I don’t hog it!” Freddie had protested in a huffy whisper; he was  _ not _ about to get shushed again. Deaky could only roll his eyes as another laugh bubbled out at his friend. His over dramatic best friend who clearly had no idea what such a hassle he was sometimes. “Whatever”, John says. “Let’s just get started, yeah? You said you needed help right?” He asked as he led him over to where he had been sitting moments prior.

 

Suddenly Freddie felt his overwhelming anxiety and worry weigh over him again. The feeling cascading over his skin like a freezing rain. He just  _ couldn’t  _ fail. His family would be so disappointed.

 

He just knew it.

 

Freddie couldn’t stand to even imagine their faces, as to how they’d look at him if he did.

 

“It’s physics. Just—ugh! Nothing seems to want to bloody stick inside. I’ve already been trying to figure this out for hours now, and I can’t get it.”

 

“I’m not as quick as Brian with this stuff, but I am a whole lot more patient, and I’m pretty good at it too,” he assured. “Just don’t sweat it I’ll help. Just let me move my stuff and we can get started.”

 

Freddie couldn’t help but look at his belongings as he’d moved them. Staring interestingly at the other textbook half open with notes sprawled over a journal, and he found his chest filling with a strange sense of emotion. 

 

“What class is that for?”

 

Deaky looked up at his friend, noticing the way his eyes hadn’t moved from his notes. “Oh, that’s for my life pairing anatomy class,” he’d exclaimed with a smile. “It’s for so-“

 

“—soulmates.” He’d felt something tight crawl up inside his chest.

 

And John, poor Deaky couldn’t see the way those words had torn up a special part of his friend that he’d locked away years ago. “Yeah soulmates, you’re right! Although they don’t like to call it that in class. You think you’ll find your soulmate one day?” He asked without a thought. 

 

After all it was basic conversation, and who hadn’t thought about it once or twice before? It was only human nature.

 

“No,” Freddie muttered and John looked up at him at that.

 

“You know not everyone meets them right, and people are happy still? It’s actually kind of rare to meet them,” he said choosing his words carefully; deliberately not saying how sad the whole anomaly really was to him. “—only like one out of every couple thousand do. I don’t think it defines us all though. I mean—how can love at all be bad?”

 

A weak smile curled his friends lips; he could see what he’d been trying to do. 

 

“Don’t you ever wonder about it?” 

 

“Of course. I think we all do. I think all anyone wants is love Fred.”

 

“No—not,” Freddie groaned as if contemplating if he should even say. He’d hadn’t remembered the last time he’d talked about these things. That box had long been sealed away with hurtful memories that he certainly hadn’t planned to open today. Probably not ever again.

 

“Never mind daring let’s just—let’s just get started already, I’ve got that test soon.”

 

Sure it was a flippant and almost rude excuse, but thankfully Deaky could understand not to push it and had let it go. He knew he’d only been trying to help open him up and be a good friend, but he also knew that being a good friend meant letting the other take their time. 

 

Freddie was grateful to have him in his life—hell even those other two blokes who’d given him a headache earlier. He was happy he could have people he could be comfortable and completely himself around. After all who else was supposed to stop him from doing stupid things? 

 

They had each other and for now Freddie knew that was enough.

 

For now he had them as family.

 

Freddie went home that night with a headache blooming behind his eyes, and as Delilah curled up against his arm that night, he, for the first time in years, dreamt of the colors again. He dreamt of black and white flowers and a hand holding his own warmly, as the shades had started to shift into something else just before waking up.

 

Freddie could not sleep that night. 

 

Instead he stayed up thinking of the man with gentle hands and the flowering freesias around him.

  
  
  
  


 


	2. sharing horizons that are new to us

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> jim’s an anxious ball full of hopes, and he may get more than he bargained for in the end.

Jim Hutton was a simple man.

 

He found himself constantly lost in the littlest most minuscule things. He wasn’t a very complicated man if one would see.

 

Jim loved the easy things in life really. 

 

Like how the way the sun warmed his skin on a springs day.

 

Or how sometimes he could lose himself for hours in just a good book; by the plants outside his patio with a nice cup of tea. (It was always so lovely when he could do that actually.)

 

Jim even took pleasure in the way the bloody library had smelt in the mornings weirdly. He couldn’t explain if it was the oldening papers, or the books leather, or if it was just the fresh pot of coffee brewing that caused him to love it so much.

 

Other attendants in his building would probably say quite blankly: boring.

 

And maybe he was in some sense.

 

At least compared to others; Jim wasn’t loud or wild in any way whatsoever, and on some days it bugged him, while on others he could care less if he was quite honest. It was just the way he was and you could sue him if you wanted.

 

“Hey, I need you to help me find some of these textbooks for some soulmate class. John’s here and bugging about how he forgot his. You know how he is,” George waves off, eyes glued to his paper in hand not noticing the way his coworker had jumped out of thought.

 

“Yeah—oh yeah sure,” he nodded; smiling once, then twice upon seeing John’s friendly face. 

 

Their friendship hadn’t been an unlikely one. They both seemed to grow from the same kind of tree; both a quiet pair who could be snarky, or might even be considered out going—with the right people of course. Jim had liked him because he seemed polite and had even laughed at his awkward joke when they’d first met. It was a silly thing to think of it like that but it was true.

 

His friend waved back a hand shyly and maybe a little awkwardly too, but Jim hadn’t minded, and instead chuckled back at him. “You needed that textbook?” Jim had questioned, gesturing him to follow after a moment. 

 

“You waited until the last minute like the time before?”

 

John snorted now. “No. I’ve actually been studying a lot I just so happen to have forgotten my book this time is all,” he said. “This test is gonna kill me if I don’t do good Jim. I swear if it drags down my rank I don’t know what I’ll do.”

 

“I’m sure you’ll do just fine. You’re very smart,” Jim comforted. “Besides what’s the class even exactly about anyways?” 

 

He was careful to keep his overwhelming curiosity at bay in his voice. He didn’t need for him to know just how interesting he found the whole phenomenon. Of how he dreamt of it most abundantly.

 

John hadn’t noticed the way Jim’s eyes widened in wonderment and instead found himself replying without skipping a beat. 

 

Or maybe he had, Jim thought, and instead had chosen to spare him the embarrassment— _ ugh good lord. _

 

“It’s basically like the whole anatomy of how soulmates work and percentiles of things surrounding it. Not as romantic as it might sound but..” John shrugged as if to convey his answer. “It’s interesting. A little scary maybe.”

 

The man rose a brow in response.  _ Scary? _ He’d never heard of soulmates being frightening in anyway.

 

“How so?”

 

“I just think it’s sad a bit more than scary actually; about the whole soulmates and colors thing. I mean—people are built up their whole lives even as kids with the hope of meeting that other half of them and most of them never do,” he said. “A lot of us never experience the colors...and the people who grow up with those unrealistic fantasies end up just—  _ sad _ ,” he sputtered brokenly. “I don’t know how else to say it.”

 

A pounding had started up in Jim’s chest, and for a moment he felt as though he might pass out from those words. Soulmates were supposed to be this beautiful thing for crying out loud!  How could something so wonderful end in sadness for so many? _(_ The _For someone like_ _me?_ went unsaid _)_ Jim licked his lips, as he had found them dry a bit now in his sudden turmoil, but spoke precariously anyways; treading words lightly. “..So you think soulmates are bad then? Like it’s better to just never meet them at all?”

 

“I didn’t say that,” Deaky said suddenly; a small smile tugging his mouth upwards. “We’re all human,” he shrugged. “It’s only natural to want what the universe has deemed our other half. There’s good and bad in everything I think. It’s everyone’s choice to choose just how bad they want to see the world around them.”

 

“I..can agree with that,” Jim said quietly. “...you believe you’ll find yours one day?”

 

Deaky shrugged lightly, a small easy smile resting on his lips as reached for the offered book Jim had. “I don’t know—maybe?  I’m not holding out on it but a person can hope right? I mean not everyone ends up with their soulmates and they’re still happy. I think that’s what’s important really.”

 

The tightness that was in Jim’s chest hadn’t dissipated entirely, but it has lessened significantly, and he felt something esqued to optimism warm him up again.

 

It was a feeling that lingered on the rest of that day.

 

Later, even after he’d written upon it more in his old notebook (it had been a gift from his sister before he’d left Ireland for good, and he hadn’t gone a day without it since), he let his hope bloom in his heart even if it was a futile odd.

 

The strange pull had dug its way under his skin, and even when he ended up being late to his gardening club (jesus he  _ almost ran someone over  _ as he had left!) it seemed to to still be there. There was no words to describe how exactly it felt. 

 

Almost like a tingle. Or maybe a spark? His heart enduring little jumps at the thought. 

 

It was a bothering little thing. Like a nat that just wouldn’t leave him alone and if Jim was being honest we wishes he’d never brought the subject up to Deaky. 

 

_ Could hope really be that dangerous? _

 

He didn’t want to end up a statistic like so many else had.

 

Depressed and alone.

 

He only wanted happiness. The kind everyone deserves to experience in their lifetime; the one that feels like the warmest hug on the coldest day; or the one that feels like what it must be like to come home after a long tiring day.

 

_ Or something like that anyways. _

 

“What a load of rubbish,” he muttered to himself wistfully after a moment. 

 

He now laid in bed quietly. His apartment dark and silent aside from the passing cars roaming outside the flat every now and then. It was moments like these that really made him crave what it must be like to have those specific pair of arms around him.

 

To be  _ loved  _ in such a way.

 

The whole building felt too silent for his burdening mind, and Jim found sleep something of a chimera for him.

 

After awhile the silence had became too overwhelming, and Jim reached for the journal besides his bedside table; figuring he could at least let out all his frustrations in it for the time being. But as he patted around the table he found it empty, and suddenly he felt his heart race a little faster at that.

 

Had he lost it? 

 

_ No it had to be here somewhere _ , Jim had tried to assured himself. 

 

Quickly he leaped up out of the bed as he had begun searching for it, but as the minutes ticked away so had confidence, and belief that he’d only misplaced it.

 

“Fuck!” 

 

His mind was scrambling for any possible places it could have been, and for a brief moment he let his breathing slow down as he began to think.

 

Jim knows he had it with him this morning when he left, and he remembers having it at lunch right before he spoke to John, and he even recollects writing in it right after that as well. 

 

He had been late for gardening club, but he was sure he had grabbed it except— _ oh. _

 

_ I didn’t. _

 

He had been in such a rush that he’d left it probably sitting at one of the tables, and Jim groaned at just the mere thought of someone touching it. 

 

_ Reading it _ .

 

_ Laughing at . _

 

_ Stealing it. _

 

Sleep absolutely did  **_not_ ** come easy that night.

 

In fact Jim’s not even completely sure if he’d slept at all if he was being honest. Very faintly in the back of his mind he remembers crawling back into bed; anxiety riddling from within him and somehow falling asleep, although it had only felt like a blink in reality. So now here he was: shaking as he dressed; hair a mess and bags colored under his eyes all the while his mind continuously scrambled for how to approach the embarrassing situation.

 

It would be completely uncomfortable no matter what happened, ( _ or for Jim at least it would be _ ) but he could care less if he was being sincere.

 

At least that is what he had kept repeating to himself as he had walked into the library. 

 

George wasn’t that hard to spot since he always seemed to sit in the same swiveling chair almost every morning; a mug of tea and scone next to him while he’d read through a book quietly. Today wasn’t any different, and as Jim’s steps grew louder the man smiled gently up at him. 

 

“Hello Ireland. Have your coffee yet? There’s a fresh pot in the back brewing, although it should be done by now,” he had offered kindly to him, and on any other day Jim would have thanked or even playfully scolded him on the use of that silly nickname George had given him, but today was not like those other days. 

 

_ No _ . 

 

Jim was on a mission. (A silly one at that) But a mission to get back his journal! No matter what it’d take.

 

“Listen I need to ask you i—“

 

“Hold on—before I forget again, cause knowing me I will,” he chuckled. “Someone left a journal or something on one of the tables and a student returned it. I was gonna ask you about it, but you had left in such a hurry and..”  George shrugged as if to finish his answer. “It’s on the counter,” he continued absentmindedly, not noticing the way his friend had seemingly turned all sorts of shades of embarrassment, and instead had flipped to another page of his book. 

 

“I— _ thanks.. _ really I think I know whose it is,” Jim muttered practically shaking from chagrin.

 

George smiled. “Yeah sure no problem Ireland.”

 

The tension that had built up had slowly begun to recede now and Jim actually managed a small laugh at his words. 

 

It was a dry and even a kinda wry laugh, but it was something at the very least, and for that he was better.

 

“What have I said about that name?”

 

“That I should keep using it? I’m pretty sure that’s what you said.”

 

Jim rolled his eyes. “I did not say that,” he muttered as he walked away now (faintly hearing George’s  _ “Would you rather I call you spud?” _ but choosing not to reply)—eyes immediately scanning for the journal.

 

The blackened and greying material caught his attention instantly, and a breath he hadn’t known he’d been holding had been let out, thanking every saint in the book. His fingers were trembling slightly as he picked it up now, but for the first time since last night the overwhelming anxiety had dissipated, and for that he had never been more grateful. 

 

Jim, although incredibly relieved, had suddenly taken notice to a couple creases on the cover that hadn’t been there before, and for some unfathomable reason ( _ Jim will never be able to explain why, or what had possessed him to do so in that moment—even after everything years later)  _ had decided to open it.

 

He heard it quicker than he had saw it weirdly. 

 

The little pitter and plop of a paper falling to the counter.

 

It was a peculiar little thing, but there was nothing special about the neatly pressed note now grasped between his finger tips, and yet Jim’s hands had still wobbled as he unfolded it.

 

His mouth ran dry.

 

_ Someone had read it. _ They’d read everything and they knew— _ they knew all of it. _ Suddenly the lump had found its way back in his throat again.

 

And yet...the words had almost seemed  _ comforting _ strangely. It brought a sense of almost understandingness; that perhaps this person had known just how bad it hurt sometimes.

 

He couldn’t look away from those words even if he wanted to, and he let himself read it again and again.

 

_ I know I shouldn’t have read your journal, trust me dear I know it’s horrible and even I myself would probably have a hissy fit if it happened to me, but I couldn’t help it. I’ve always been a rather nosey person or so I’ve been told (I think this proves it). But something about your words held me in such a way I’ve never felt before… I hope you find what you are looking for one day, I know I hope I do too. _

 

_ (Freddie had huffed out a breathy little groan, his hand going straight to his face in shame. _

 

_ What was he even doing? _

 

_ This was just embarrassing. He didn’t even know who this person was! He knew it was wrong to have even opened it in the first place, and that he should have just took it straight to the counter like Deaky had suggested, but the thing had just looked so darn dark and intriguing! It was just practically begging to be opened and looked at. _

 

_ And now—in undeniable stupidity—Freddie had decided to leave a small note for some reason he had no answer to. _

 

**_He will also never know what made him leave that on note on that peculiar day._ **

 

_ Freddie wondered if he’d ever have an answer.) _

 

The words rattled around Jim’s head continually throughout the day, and every student that had  walked in that evening had Jim wondering if it was them. 

 

_ ‘I know I hope I do too’ _ , is what had really struck Jim, and had been stuck with him all day.

 

Had they felt hopeless too?

 

Could they understand just how much it hurt to think about it on those especially lonely days? Those days when the world just felt so big and yet he’d never felt more alone.

 

In that moment  (later he’d think it was a disastrous idea and regret it as soon as he’d left) he decided he’d wanted to find out.

 

His note isn’t nearly as neat and pretty as the other one—in fact he writes it on a torn half piece of paper—but he tries his best to put in words what he’s feeling strangely at that moment.

 

Jim leaves his journal in the same place he’d forgotten it the day before.

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> leave kudos and comments they help us writers a lot!! thank u for reading!! <3

**Author's Note:**

> i hope you liked my first chapter please leave kudos and comments they help a lot!! -angela


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